The Terminator and the Little Girl
by NotMarge
Summary: Sarah Conner was eight years old when the machines first tried to kill her. The Terminator saved her and she ran with him for the next eleven years. Not exactly a normal childhood. Based on Terminator: Genisys.
1. Sarah Conner, age 8

I do not own Terminator Genisys.

Movie was loads of fun tho.

The Terminator and the Little Girl

* * *

He carried her for a long time before setting her down next to a large, serious-looking motorcycle.

She stared at him.

Huge, he was huge.

Like, bigger than a mountain, huge.

And ugly. Mean face.

Scary.

But not as scary as the water metal.

Or the exploded cabin.

"Who are you?"

Her voice sounded little, afraid.

Like someone not tough.

Like someone who was crying.

And she was.

"I am a T-800 terminator, Cyberdyne Systems Model, 101."

Lots of words.

Big words.

Weird words in a weird voice.

Words that didn't make sense.

"Are you a person?"

He didn't look at her.

"Negative. I'm a cybernetic organism. Living tissue over metal endoskeleton."

She didn't understand it.

She didn't understand _him_.

Or why the cabin had blown up.

Or why the liquid metal had attacked her father's boat.

She didn't understand any of it.

And she was afraid.

"I don't understand that! Say something I can understand!"

He turned to look at her.

She stood there, trembling, crying, terrified.

And lost.

When he spoke, his strange voice sounded like a machine.

Dead tones.

Uncaring.

Unemotional.

"Your parents are dead. I am here to protect you. I will never let anyone hurt you. I am your guardian."

She stared at him, unable to speak.

Unable to move.

Unable to breathe.

He sat down on the bike and it groaned under his weight.

"It is not safe here. We must go. Now."

She stared at him a minute longer.

He stared right back.

She got on the bike.

And rode away from everything she had ever known.

* * *

 **Okayyyyy, so, just saw Terminator: Genisys and that just blew my mind. So. Much. Fun!**

 **And of course, being me, I started thinking of what it would be like to grow up with a Terminator as pretty much your one and only confidante in the world. (Don't think he'd let her have sleepovers, do ya?)**

 **Never considered writing Terminator fanfic before. But hey, never had such an interesting thought on it until now.**

 **Don't expect lengthy chapters or linear story line. This is more of a visceral thing. You know how we girls can be, right? ;)**

 **Everybody appreciates feedback. Leave a review if you like.**


	2. Sarah Conner, age 15

I do not own Terminator Genisys.

Movie was loads of fun tho.

The Terminator and the Little Girl

Sarah Conner, age 15

* * *

He found her.

She'd known he would.

She'd hoped he wouldn't.

'Cause she was sick of him.

Him and his stupid ugly face and his robot voice.

And her stupid destiny.

She was sick of all of it.

She'd pretended to be asleep.

Waited a long time.

Then crept out. Been real quiet.

But when she saw him striding up behind the oldest of the boys, the one wearing the Queen shirt, she wasn't surprised.

Just pissed.

"Oh crap!" she hissed between her teeth.

And the cute one with the green eyes, the whose name wasn't Kyle-freaking-Reese, the one smiling at her, suddenly found a huge hand clamped down on his unsuspecting shoulder.

And looked up into a pair of steely eyes.

"Whoa . . ."

"Step away from the girl."

 _What, has he been watching old gangster movies to learn to talk now?_

The kid grinned then started chattering nervously.

"Hey, man, I didn't do nothing . . ."

The giant man ignored him, pushed him back.

And focused on her.

"Sarah Conner, it is not safe here."

She rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, nowhere is safe, right?"

Pops didn't respond, only held out his hand.

"Time to go. Come with me."

His emotionless speech sent her own raging emotions skyrocketing.

"No! I don't _want_ to go! I want to stay here! I want to hang out with these guys! I want to be a _teenager_!"

Pops didn't react to her fit.

Of course he didn't. He couldn't. He was a freaking robot.

"Negative. It is not part of your mission."

She glared at him.

"I don't _care_ about my stupid mission! I just want to hang out with . . . with . . ."

But it didn't matter.

They were gone, run off, fled the weirdo scene.

She hadn't even known them for more than a few minutes. Had barely sidled up to them, bummed a smoke 'cause they smoked.

Introduced herself as 'Cleo'.

And pretended to not watch them pretending to not watch her.

And now they were gone.

All because of him.

And her stupid destiny.

"Hey, I _liked_ them! We were just _talking_! They were _nice_!"

A stupid statement. She'd known them for three whole minutes. They could have been serial killers. Like that Bundy guy.

"Can't I just _talk_ to people?"

Pops stared impassively at her.

"Negative. Unidentified people could be terminators."

She raised a snarky eyebrow, already knowing the answer to the question she was about to ask.

"Well, were they?!"

He stared at her.

"No."

She glared in triumph.

"That's _right_! They were just _boys_! Can't I _talk_ to just _boys_?!"

Pops answer infuriated her.

"None of them were Kyle Reese."

And she started screaming.

"I don't _care_ about Kyle Reese! I _hate_ Kyle Reese!"

Pops did not emotionally respond to her rage.

Instead he waited for her to run out of steam.

And when she did, he spoke.

Emotionless and dry, as always.

"Kyle Reese is your only suitable male specimen. Hating him is illogical and counterproductive to your mission."

Mission, mission, the mission.

It was all she had ever _heard_ about.

Stupid mission.

She hated all of it.

She didn't even care about the boys.

She just needed to be away from him.

And herself.

And her stupid mission.

"I hate you," she muttered.

Pops was inscrutable.

"That is not counterproductive to your mission."

She threw up her hands in disgust.

And went with him.

* * *

 **And I thought I had teenage angst, gah. And I can see the Terminator being like so . . . him. You know?**

 **Thanks to the ever loyal DinahRay, ThatGypsyWriter, and King Domino III for your supportive reviews.**


	3. Sarah Conner, age 8 and One Night

I do not own Terminator Genisys.

Movie was loads of fun tho.

The Terminator and the Little Girl

Sarah Conner, age 8 and One Night

* * *

At the cabin.

She was at the cabin, asleep in her bed.

Listening hazily to the sounds of the night wafting in through the open window.

Which apparently consisted mostly of motorcycles and other, more distant vehicles steadily droning past her room.

Which was really weird considering the cabin was out in the middle of nowhere next to a quiet lake.

Also, her bed was moving.

Not like Auntie Maxine and Uncle Charlie's waterbed, sloshing and undulating until she was seasick.

But smoothly, steadily.

Like riding on a warm leather cloud rolling on concrete sky.

Her bed in the cabin was acting weirder than she'd ever imagined and she was trying to relax and stay sleeping in it.

But, as it turned out, she wasn't sleeping in her bed.

She had fallen asleep during the long ride with the big, scary man, shock and emotional exhaustion finally overtaking her small, frail frame.

Now she awoke slowly, in bits and pieces. Aware someone strong and sure was holding her, cradling her.

It was dark now.

She opened her eyes and looked up and saw him. He wasn't looking at her, focused unblinkingly on the neverending road ahead.

She should have been shocked and terrified. But she wasn't. She was numb.

"We have not yet reached the safe house, Sarah Conner," he rumbled as the bike sped on monotonously.

She spoke without knowing she would.

"How did you know I was awake?"

He clicked the blinker, turned left.

"I detected fluctuations in your breathing patterns and heart rate consistent with consciousness."

More big words she didn't understand.

Did he always talk this way? Like a robot in the Twilight Zone show?

"Rest, Sarah Conner," the big guy instructed, decelerating slightly as they rode through a residential area. "So it will be time to start your mission."

She stared up owlishly at him. He did not look down.

"Mission? What's my mission?"

But he did not respond.

And she, future mother of the savior of the human resistance, fell back to sleep again.

As the Terminator held her protectively.

And drove on through the deepening night.

* * *

 **Thanks to ThatGypsyWriter, DinahRay, and stephen kopunek for graciously reviewing.**

 **Thanks also to CLBONE13 for adding your support to this tale.**

 **Considering attempting to delve into the Terminator's thought processes too at some point. Opinions?**


	4. Author's Note

**Hello wonderful ones,**

 **Due to some sudden unforseen big dramas in my life, I've decided I must take a February sabbatical from my beloved fanfiction.**

 **I promise I'll return in March and we'll continue to enjoy the heck out of these wandering tales.**

 **You are under no loyalty to post a review response to this announcement of mine. I just didn't want to abandon these special characters and you my loyal readers without some explanation as to why.**

 **Some if not all of you would either have been offended (understandable) or concerned (so many of you have shown me kindness over the years) and I appreciate and respect you too much to be so rude and uncaring to youin return.**

 **So take care of yourselves and I'll see you again (relatively) soon.**

 **Happy fanfic-ing!**

 **Your joyful ('cause i choose to be) storyteller,**

 **Not Marge**


	5. Sarah Conner, Age 19

I do not own Terminator Genisys.

Movie was loads of fun tho.

The Terminator and the Little Girl

Sarah Conner, Age 19

or

A Rose By Any Other Name Can Still Lead the Resistance

* * *

"Sarah Conner. It is time."

She kept her face blank.

"Time for what?"

Pops, with his grey hair and aging face, answered her with that same monotone, robotic voice she felt she had been listening to all her life.

"Time to extract Kyle Reese."

Kyle Reese.

Kyle-freaking-Reese.

Since she was a child, she had been preparing for this moment.

This moment when it would all begin.

Her mission.

Save a guy she didn't know. Screw him. Get pregnant. Give birth to John Conner. Raise him to teenagehood. Save the world.

No matter what other stuff was involved. No matter what else the Terminator said, what else they prepared for, that's basically what it boiled down to.

Her and her reproductive system of gold.

And Kyle-freaking-Reese and his super sperm.

She hated the whole thing.

Where was _her_ choice?

Where was _her_ life?

Where was _she_ in all this?

Nowhere, that's where.

And she despised it.

The Future had not asked her if she wanted this.

Nope.

The Terminator had simply shown up, saved her, and trotted her off to her destiny.

What did one do with _that_?

First there was fear and awe.

Follower by childish excitement.

Confusion. Disbelief.

Rage and defiance at some point. Maybe several some points.

Mixed with acceptance.

Determination.

And the rollercoaster all over, time and time again.

And now it was here.

And all she wanted to do was flee in the opposite direction.

"Sarah Conner."

She sighed.

Slung one last weapon bag over her shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm coming."

* * *

"You know, I was thinking," she began conversationally guiding the stolen delivery truck carefully through traffic. "I don't like the name John. I think I'll name him Trevor. Or Axel."

They were heading irrevocably toward it.

Toward her stupid destiny.

The one she wanted to avoid.

And couldn't.

And she could not help herself.

"Maybe Mickey."

Pops was not amused.

"That is not his name. His name is John Conner."

She shrugged.

"Yeah, but it could something else. Or even a girl. These things can't be controlled, you know."

Pops continued to stare out the windshield, intent on the mission.

"It will be a boy. His name will be John Conner."

She passed a station wagon, earning an admiring glance from the middle-aged father in the driver's seat.

 _Sorry but you aren't Kyle Reese. And Pops said it has to be him. Redirect your eyes to the road, buddy._

"If it's a girl though and I name her John, she'll need all kinds of therapy."

Pops leaned forward , putting one hand on the dashboard.

"Stop here."

She automatically pulled over to the shoulder of the road. Pops stepped out. Grabbed his supplies.

And turned to her.

"You know what to do."

She nodded, suddenly nervous and afraid.

The Terminator stood still for a second.

"His name is John Conner."

Then he turned away.

"Unless I name him Fred!" she called out gaily, full of false bravado.

Pops did not turn around.

She had not expected him to.

"I could name him Fred if I wanted to," she muttered.

There was no one around.

She was talking to herself.

"Or Bernard."

* * *

 **Apparently Sarah is working through some stuff here. As am I, ha.**

 **I hope you're still out there for the entertaining. I know Wolfshaf'z is. And threatening me with terminator social workers apparently.**

 **'S ok. He showed up just in time for Grey's Anatomy and by the time I'd explained the evolutionary path of the great Alex Karev, he got sleepy and sacked out on my couch. Enjoyed the Belgian waffles I made him this morning tho.**

 **But really, thanks. That was an awesomely enthusiastic review. :)**

 **Thanks also to slightly less threatening DinahRay, hannahleep123, blebs, firestar001 and ThatGypsyWriter for your long ago reviews as well.**


	6. Sarah Conner, Age 8 and Weeks

I do not own Terminator Genisys.

Movie was loads of fun tho.

The Terminator and the Little Girl

Sarah Conner, age 8 and Weeks

or

The Terminator Tin Man/Scarecrow Gains a Heart and a Brain

* * *

Sarah Conner was not acclimating to her new role as future mother of the savior of the Resistance.

She did not eat.

She did not sleep.

She refused to train or learn the skills necessary to her survival.

She was not complying to orders or the plan of carrying out her mission.

And the T-800, to explain it in human terms, was stumped.

The military rations, along with children's Flintstones vitamins he had procured for her, contained all the necessary nutrition to sustain the health of her body.

The cot and blankets he provided for her were sufficient to protect her against the elements, especially hidden away in their underground bunker.

The fresh, clean water, free of chemicals and pesticides that could compromise her health, also were adequate to maintain proper body functions.

He required she maintain a sleep schedule with strict adherence to the needs of her growing cells.

And the sanitary latrine conditions of the bunker kept dangerous bacteria from compromising her health and safety.

But she was not growing or gaining strength.

On the contrary, she failed to maintain other than the most basic of life systems.

The T-800 was equipped with scanning and x-ray visual computing systems and a detailed file on human physiology and anatomy.

All of her systems were in acceptable working order.

Logically, she should be fine.

But she wasn't.

She seemed to be failing to thrive, not responding stimuli.

"Sarah Conner, it is time to eat."

She lay on her cot, staring at the wall.

"I'm not hungry."

Her voice was an apathetic whisper.

She did not look at the food.

Did not move.

"Sarah Conner, your biological systems require sustenance to adequately function."

No response.

"Sarah Conner, you must eat."

No response.

By the T-800's observation, she had been exhibiting symptoms of physical and psychological decline since he had rescued her from the T-1000.

At first, she had cried over the death of her parents.

His files on human mental, emotional, and social functioning were not as extensive as the necessary ones on human anatomy.

But he had been updated with the most basic files for this mission.

He concluded she was 'sad'.

His files also informed him her condition would improve over the course of time.

Two months had disproven that hypothesis.

It had been just the two of them alone.

And the T-800, though it looked human, was not.

It understood this.

But there was no human that could be trusted.

All humans could be terminators.

It was not safe to expose Sarah Conner to that threat.

"Sarah Conner, to sustain life, you must eat."

The T-800 did not have the necessary human processing to verbally emphasize his request.

She didn't move.

"I don't care."

The T-800 considered the implications of holding her down and funneling the food into her mouth.

Calculated the risk of her choking and injuring herself.

She had not refused to eat for her parents when he observed her with them.

She had laughed and smiled and played with them and their-

And the T-800 went away.

* * *

When he returned some time later, he carried a large box with holes poked in the top.

He set it down in front of her.

She did not look at it.

"Sarah Conner, there is something in box. It is for you."

She remained still for a moment.

"Sarah Conner, it is imperative that you open the box now."

Nothing.

Then a small sound, piteous and lonely, issued from the box.

The little girl sat up, her expression slowly clearing.

She looked up hesitantly at the humanoid standing before her.

He stared flatly down at her.

Then she returned her attention to the box.

Slid off the bunk.

And touched it.

Another sound issued, this one anxious and insistent.

And she opened the lid.

The Golden retriever puppy looked up at her.

And grinned, its pink tongue lolling out happily.

" _Oh!_ "

Her cry was a still only a whisper. But a much different whisper than before.

Sarah Conner reached into the box and lifted out the puppy.

He immediately began to lick her face excitedly.

The T-800 calculated the probability of the dog biting her, scratching her severely or transferring deadly germs to her with its pink tongue.

The possibility was low.

And the cyborg remained still and did not move.

The little girl ran her hands all through the dog's fur, giggling and smiling.

This excited the canine further and he pressed himself against her in absolute and complete adoration and love.

Sarah Conner's previously flat affect was replaced by a bright, expressive child's happiness.

She tore herself away from the puppy and stood before the T-800, the wiggling, waggling puppy crowding her feet.

She looked up at him and he looked down at her.

Then her face burst into tears that the T-800 could not process.

And she threw her arms around him.

He did not move.

She did not appear to be trying to attack him.

"What are you doing, Sarah Conner?"

Her voice was difficult to understand, as her face was buried in the muscle of his stomach.

"It's a hug. I'm saying thank you."

He did not compute the unnecessary physical contact.

But he did compute the puppy now growling and chewing on his leather pant leg around the ankle area.

"Sarah Conner, the dog is not a gift. It is a weapon. It alerts us to the presence of terminators."

She glanced down with her arms still around him.

"Is that why he's eating your boot?"

The T-800 replied blankly.

"Yes."

Sarah Conner laughed again, let go, and knelt down to the exuberant dog once more.

Who let go of the offensive leathered terminator and resumed licking her face.

Sarah Conner giggled.

"What's your name, huh? What's your name? Do you wanna play fetch, huh? Do ya?"

The T-800 observed them blankly.

And his gnawed pants leg.

* * *

That night, he watched her as she slept.

With her arms wrapped around the sleeping dog.

Curled together on her narrow cot.

She did not cry in her sleep, scream or shout.

She did not squirm or writhe or whimper.

Sarah Conner, future freedom fighter and mother of the savior of the Resistance, just slept.

And her brave and loyal dog, Max, slept beside her.

Dreaming about giant tree made of leather.

And the T-800 watched them.

He didn't smile.

He didn't know how.

* * *

 **Hello, people! How are ya? I'm much better, thanks! Sometimes life just beats the crap outta you. Am I right?**

 **Well, anyway, I'm back with a new chapter I hope you enjoy :)**

 **Thanks to TheNightRunner, ThatGypsyWriter, WolfShad'z, and DinahRay for your great reviews.**

 **Thanks also to .16 and randomhoosp123 for adding your support to this story as well.**


	7. Sarah Conner, Age 11 and a Half

I do not own Terminator Genisys.

Movie was loads of fun tho.

The Terminator and the Little Girl

Sarah Conner, age 11 and a Half

or

The Birds and the Bees, Terminator Style

* * *

At her scream, The Terminator immediately snatched up his automatic and went straight for her.

She was alone.

Except for her dog, Max. Only mildly whimpering at the girl's distraught demeanor.

Not the vicious barking associated with dangerous intruders or terminators.

"Sarah Conner, what is wrong?"

She didn't respond.

"Are you injured?"

She shook her head mutely, eyes welling with tears.

The Terminator waited.

Finally she spoke, voice shaking.

"I was . . . I was . . . in the bathroom . . . and there . . . there was blood . . . I don't . . . I don't know . . . it doesn't hurt . . ."

And she stopped talking, only stroking the dog's coarse coat for comfort.

The Terminator searched his files for an explanation.

And found what he was looking for.

"Sarah Conner . . ." he began emotionlessly.

* * *

She sat, redfaced and silent for a while after the Terminator concluded his female anatomy and physiology discourse.

The machine waited.

"So I'm going to do _that_ every month for days and days until I'm _old_?"

The Terminator's face, as always, was blank as he responded.

"Yes. If you live that long. Which is highly improbable."

She seemed to absorb this overly direct statement relatively well.

Considering.

"And it'll never _stop_?"

The Terminator stood tall and statuesque, holding his automatic in his hands as he had the entire interaction.

"It will stop during the time you are pregnant with John Conner."

She stared at him.

"And how does _that_ happen? When we kiss like," she swallowed, suddenly faced with past and unprepared to do so. ". . . like Mom and Dad used to?"

Her cyborg protector remained impassive for a moment.

Then he turned away.

"It is not important right now. You will learn when you are older."

Suddenly frustrated and resentful at what her body was doing without her permission, the almost teenager, future mother of the savior of the human race, stamped her foot.

"No! Come back here!"

He paused. And did, facing her with his impenetrable stone face.

"You have to do what I say, right?"

His expression did not change.

"Yes."

She put her hands on her hips stubbornly.

"Then _tell_ me," she demanded authoritatively.

The Terminator stared at her.

He did not feel shame or embarrassment.

He did not know how.

But his limited psychological files indicated _she_ would.

"Sarah Conner, this is not a good idea at the present time."

She folded her arms as her nasally superior loyal canine companion refrained from investigating the new and strange aroma emanating from his young mistress.

"I don't care," she replied even more stubbornly. "Tell me _now_."

The Terminator was programmed to obey.

He was programmed to comply with her commands as long as they did not involve her unnecessary, imminent danger.

"Human beings are conceived by way of sexual intercourse . . ."

* * *

When he was done speaking, the girl was both more redfaced and pale than ever.

And the Terminator was still impassive.

"I'm going to do . . . _that_? With a _boy_?"

He nodded curtly.

"With Kyle Reese, yes."

She goggled at him.

"But that's _gross_! Why would I do _that_?"

The Terminator did not grip his weaponry tighter for comfort in this uncomfortable situation.

He did not understand the need to.

He was a machine.

"It will be instinctual. Your hormones will secrete chemicals into your brain . . ."

She held up her trembling little girl hand.

"No, no, never mind. Stop. I don't want to know any more."

Then she sat, unable to touch the man-bot or her beloved dog because they were both _boys_.

Sort of.

"I told you it was not a good idea, Sarah Connor."

She couldn't look at him.

"Yeah, I know."

And then she laid down and didn't speak for quite a while.

It had kind of been a rough day.

And the Terminator, Cyberdyne Systems T-800, a merciless and brutal killing machine from the future, went to go procure some much needed Kotex.

* * *

 **Okay, well, I _would_ apologize to any dudes out there reading this but you _knew_ it was a story about a girl. So honestly it makes sense. And _my_ dad had to get super drunk to tell me and he ended up talking to the deer head on the wall instead.**

 **So yeah, the Terminator did alright. ;)**

 **Thanks to DinahRay, ThatGypsyWriter, and Wolfshad'z for kindly reviewing.**

 **Thanks also to Chardinal, ericaj318, LordHerod, Mireilles3, and Mrs Tom Riddle for adding your support to this weird thing I'm doing.**

 **See you next time! :D**


	8. Sarah Conner, age 14

I do not own Terminator Genysis.

I do own a car.

The Terminator and the Little Girl

Sarah Conner, age 14

* * *

"Sarah Conner . . ."

"Sarah Conner . . ."

"Sarah Conner . . ."

The Terminator did not sound annoyed. He did not sound flustered. He did not sound put out.

He didn't know how.

Not even when his massive face was thrust forward, nearly meeting the dashboard of the lurching Ford F-150.

He simply straightened once more. Placed a huge gloved hand on the molded plastic surface to steady himself as the vehicle continued its erratic jerking.

And turned his impassive face to look at the red-faced teenager in the driver's seat.

"Sarah Conner . . . stop."

She gritted her teeth, shaking her head stubbornly.

"No, hang on. I've almost got it."

The irritated grinding of the internal gear mechanism begged to differ.

"Sarah Conner . . . stop."

She resolutely ignored him, shoving the stick shift through all the gears the vehicle possessed, plus a few it didn't.

Her left foot and right foot alternated between slamming down on the floor levers and slipping off them, waving in thin air.

"Sarah Conner."

Finally she looked at him.

"What?"

The Terminator's face revealed nothing of the impatience most other fathers, er, parental units, um, _adults in charge_ would have betrayed.

"Stop the vehicle. It will not withstand misuse to its internal working much longer. And we will be forced to steal another one."

The future of mother of the savior of the Resistance blew out an exhalation of frustration, slamming the vehicle into park and turning off the engine.

The tortured vehicular transport submitted gratefully and became still, engine ticking.

Sarah Conner smoothed back her flyaway ponytail with her hands.

"I can't _do_ it, Pops! I'm too short to reach the pedals even with these!"

She miserably gestured toward the stack of pillows bracing her diminutive frame forward several inches.

"You have to learn, Sarah Conner. The survival of the human race depends on it."

Yeah, she knew the story. And all the chapters. And all the characters.

And her stupid role in it.

Still . . .

She fixed him with a baleful glare.

"The survival of the human race depends on me learning to drive _stick_ shift?"

Her dripping sarcasm was lost on the humorless machine.

"Yes."

She sighed heavily, defeated.

Then tried again.

"Can't we save Kyle-freaking-Reese in a VW Bug or something?"

A sudden visage of Pops and his machine gun wadded up in the passenger seat of a little yellow German engineered compact car presented itself to her brain.

"Why are you laughing?"

And despite the Terminator's endlessly dour disposition, Sarah Conner had caught a terrible fit of the giggles.

"Nothing, nothing."

The Terminator's even gaze remained constant as she slowly regained control of herself.

"Sarah Conner, you must become proficient enough to operate any vehicle available."

She stared grumpily at him, pouting.

He appeared unmoved.

"It is logical that having the skill to operate a large vehicle would also make you capable of operating a smaller one."

She raised her eyebrows, a sardonic smile twisting her face.

"So why not just have me start on a bulldozer or a semi then?"

Her attempt to get a rise out of the cyborg did not succeed.

He remained impassive.

She had known he would.

"A stolen construction or mass transport vehicle would alert the authorities."

She stared at him.

"Your driving skills are rudimentary enough there would also be a high probability of civilian casualties."

She blinked.

"Did you . . . did you . . . did you just make a _joke_?"

The Terminator's face was impenetrable.

"No."

But she swore she saw his eyes crinkle. Just a little.

* * *

Her driving practice continued.

"Sarah Conner, merge into the right lane."

She was improving.

"Sarah Conner, activate your turn signal."

Sort of.

"Sarah Conner, survey the traffic behind you first. You almost collided with another vehicle."

"Yeah, I know."

The blaring horn behind had tipped her off.

Suffice it to say she was still struggling.

"Sarah Conner. Reduce your velocity to drive down the off ramp."

"Okay."

Truthfully, the truck might have _temporarily_ become airborne.

Just for a few seconds.

"Sarah Conner. Reduce velocity."

She finally reined in her panic and found the brake. Slamming her foot down on it, causing the vehicle to swerve wildly.

"Sarah Conner . . ."

Her hands were white on the wheel.

"Yeah, I know."

Fingernails threatening to puncture the leather.

"Sarah Conner . . ."

She didn't answer, concentrating on finding a place to stop.

"Sarah Conner . . ."

But he was insistent.

"Sarah Conner . . ."

"Oh my god, Pops! _What?!_ Just stop saying my name for a second, okay?"

The Terminator did not give her a withering look. He did not know how.

"Stop the vehicle."

She did, pulling into a Walgreens parking lot. Miraculously without mowing down any pedestrians or fellow drivers.

"Get out."

She tumbled out of the vehicle, landing somewhat gracefully on her sneaker-shod feet.

The Terminator got out of the passenger side and came over to tower above her.

"Your training is over for today."

 _Thank God._

"You will continue tomorrow."

 _Yippee._

* * *

 **Here I bet you think I forgot this story, huh?**

 **Well, almost. But not quite. ;)**

 **Thanks to DinahRay, Darktemplar343, TheNightRunner, WolfShad'Z, and stephen kopunek for your encouragement and great reviews!**

 **Thanks also to DanceFly, LunarStar98, Princess Kanako, WhitePhoenix357, pumpkin118, and YamiYugiYuki for adding your support to this silliness.**

 **Hope all you guys are still around!**


	9. Okay, I'm Admitting It

On hiatus until further notice. I sincerely apologize. But I will return.


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